


every kind of way

by myhamartia



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daredevil, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Canon-Typical Violence, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mugging, Neil is Daredevil, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 22:16:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20033224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myhamartia/pseuds/myhamartia
Summary: So Neil wasn’t some cracked-up superhero. He was a vigilante roaming the streets, making Hell’s Kitchen a little less hellish, and occasionally saving his best friend from times of peril and disaster. Nothin’ super about that. Just a regular Tuesday afternoon.or: au wherein Neil is daredevil, and andrew just wants some midnight snacks, goddammit.





	every kind of way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sporadichearttcollector](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sporadichearttcollector/gifts).

> written and produced over a couple of hours because I started watching daredevil and im obsessed.
> 
> also, i don't even go here. i read the first book, and like half the second. this is mostly for leo, whom i love. they're in love w these books and i, well, had to deliver

Neil wouldn’t, like, call himself a superhero. Yeah, he’s _ been called _ a superhero by local media outlets and people gossiping amongst themselves.

(_ “Did you hear about that new superhero? Devil of Hell’s Kitchen?” _

_ “Doesn’t sound like much of a hero. Needs a better name.” _)

Andrew was the most accurate, he thought. He called Neil a vigilante, some stupid dude running around, racking up potential cases for them. Of course when he said this, his tone was sardonic as he slumped into Neil’s couch facing away from the window’s oppressive light.

Neil snorted at him from where he was looking for juice in the fridge. “Maybe so.”

There was a lot of speculation about the Devil, especially now that he was somewhat coming into the media spotlight. He wasn’t as noteworthy as the other bigger, more relevant superheros running around, and that suited Neil just fine. He worked so much better in the shadows, away from the people’s attention.

Even so, he wasn’t able to escape Nicky’s notice.

Nicky, who hummed, kicking back to lean against the front of his desk with one ankle stretched out and crossed over the other. He had his tablet in his hands, flicking through articles.

“Imagine being a superhero,” he mused. “You can just slide up to anybody and be like _ hey, baby, wanna get saved tonight _?”

“That’s a Jehovah's Witness, not a superhero,” Kevin muttered from the beanbag he liked to stuff in the corner behind Nicky's desk. He shifted, and the bag rustled noisily beneath him. There was a paper in his hands, and Neil knew that he was looking for job listings. “And a shitty pickup line nonetheless, not to mention fucking creepy.”

“Nicky doesn’t need help with that,” Andrew commented, picking a raisin out of his cinnamon swirl bread. He flicked it at Nicky, who made a surprised noise at him.

“_ Fuck off _ ,” he exclaimed. “I’m _ just saying. _. Superheros. Big dick energy. Lots of boys would be into that. Imagine sticking that shit on a Tinder profile.”

“Alright, yeah, whatever.” Andrew finished off his snack and pushed off his doorjamb to retreat back into his office.

While Nicki was right about that kind of… allure of a superhero, it wasn’t all that he cracked it up to be — especially when you show up to work on a Tuesday morning with his face tight and sore from a run in with a particularly feisty hoodlum trying to jack a bodega in the slow early-morning hours.

"What the _ fuck _ happened to you?" Andrew asked as soon as Neil opened the door.

"What do you mean?" Neil asked, tone light and innocent.

"He's referring to the fact that your face is busted," Kevin supplied helpfully from his corner of the room. He sounded low, like he was slumped on his beanbag.

Kevin was kind of in between homes right now. So he took advantage of Josten and Minyard’s office area, sleeping on the shitty futon stuck in the corner of Andrew’s office and running bagels for them during the day.

Neil shrugged at him, leaning his cane up against the corner by the door, accidentally thumping the potted plant on the floor as he went. "I wasn't paying attention and someone flung a bodega door open and hit my face," he explained. A total lie, but nobody but him had to know about that. He shrugged out of his jacket and went across to his little office to hang it up behind the door.

"You need a dog," Andrew hummed. His mouth was full. Neil guessed that it was those danish pastries from a couple blocks down. The lady who ran the shop declared that Aaron was her favorite, but it was a bald-faced lie. Sometimes Neil could hear snippets of their conversations as he walked down to work. She'd coo at him, and he'd yell because she pinched his cheek. Andrew adored her, though he wouldn't tell anyone about it.

Andrew also had coffee. It smelled extra strong today, like he'd gotten no sleep last night and was trying to make up the difference. Maybe Kevin made it today. He always had a tendency to use way too many fucking coffee grounds to be justified.

"I don't need a dog," Neil argued. He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. "Besides, Nicky's allergic, remember?" He cleared his throat and tipped his head in Andrew's direction. The little scoff didn't escape Neil.

"Fuck Nicky," he snapped before taking another bite. A paper napkin wrinkled as Andrew wiped his fingers.

"Somehow," Kevin spoke up from the side. "I feel like you'd be pissed off if Neil started fucking your family members."

Neil laughed, leaning his shoulder up against his doorjamb while Andrew snarled at Kevin. There was a rustle of his jacket, like he'd made some sort of threatening gesture at Kevin. Kevin just laughed at him.

The door opened and a familiar humming made its way into their tiny office. Nicky's coffee was strong, too. The ice clinked against the plastic cup he held. He smelled like expensive perfume, most likely from his boyfriend.

"Up in arms already?" he asked. He set his things on his desk, brushing Neil's shoulder as he went. He made a little sound, but it was directed towards Andrew. "Oh fuck, you guys started Andrew’s roast without me."

"Don't worry, Nicky," Neil grinned sharply at him, "it's barely nine, there's plenty of time to jab him later." Nicky snorted, and Neil straightened up. "For now, can you pull the files on Ms. Keller? Drop them to my computer."

"You got it boss." Nicky tossed his bag up on the coat hanger and made shooing noises towards Kevin. "Get out of my corner, you vagrant."

Neil went into his office, letting the resulting argument trail behind him.

Neil was _ cold _. The rooftop was subject to high winds. They stung at his face and his neck until his cheeks were numb and his fingers felt stiff. 

He cracked his knuckles and rubbed his hands together to try and force some blood back into them. October was the shits. Too cold for this evil fighting shit. He thought that villains, low-lifes and crime mobs alike should just take the fucking winter off until the wind didn't settle into your joints and _ freeze _.

Tipping his head to the side, mostly to give his left ear a reprieve to the wind by sacrificing his right, he listened.

There wasn't much tonight. He'd already delivered a kid trying to break into his ex-girlfriend’s car to the front steps of the police station, and it was half past eleven.

He kicked his legs off the edge of the building, bracing his hands beside him. He ought to get earmuffs. It might not be very stylish of him, but at least he wouldn't be freezing like a goddamn popsicle.

A few floors below him, he could hear a couple arguing, another few someones getting caught up on their telenovellas, and at least two people down on the first level doing their laundry. A lady was walking down the street, talking animatedly to her dog beside her. Six streets away, someone was clicking their tongue at a straw cat, cooing at them and trying to bait them along.

There were police sirens, and a firetruck some distance away, but it seemed to be a quiet night.

He was almost tempted to just turn in tonight, give it a rest and actually get a decent few hours of sleep.

But it was early. He'd wait it out for another couple of hours, maybe get in around three.

He stood up and tried to ignore the way his knees groaned. He puffed out a sigh and stretched. It was amazing, what some stretches could do to fight against the cold.

Neil scrubbed along his nose and went to find area to patrol, following the sound of sirens and the smell of copper and beer.

* * *

His hands weren’t cold anymore.

There was a sick crunch as he drove the heel of his palm right up one of the thug’s noses. There was a scream, but the man crumpled bag, curling in on himself. He was the last of three punkass delinquents. Both of his friends were unconscious and were currently strung out perpendicular to each other. “You’re a fucking demon!” The words came out gargled as blood flooded his throat. He coughed, blood splattering all over his front, falling just short of Neil’s feet.

“That’s what they call me,” Neil snapped, pitching his voice deep as he hauled him up. His nose was fucked, there was no way around it. Bloodied and swollen, cartilage no doubt shattered. He zip-tied his wrists together behind his back before he dropped him right back to the floor. “Lean forward so you don’t fucking die,” he snapped when the dumbass tried to lean his head back to stem the bloodflow. He dropped his head, curling his legs under him. Blood dripped into his lap, and his breath was choppy and pitiful.

Neil zipped the other’s wrists, not bothering to check their pulse when he could hear the steady heartbeats from both of them. There was a crackle in one of their lungs, but Neil could hear sirens about two minutes away, so he left it for them to deal with.

There was a shuffling noise in the entrance to the alley, and Neil finally looked up to him.

Andrew stood there, pinching the bridge of his nose. He could smell the blood on him from where he stood.

Neil was getting ready to head home when he’d Andrew getting ready to leave one of those mom n’ pop diners where they remember you by name and tell you to ‘take care of yourself’ and ‘come back soon’ as you leave.

Andrew liked the diner, especially when his meds kept him from sleeping and his apartment couldn’t keep him entertained. Sometimes he’d text Neil in the early hours to see if he was having a bout of insomnia, and if he was up, they’d get pancakes.

It was something of a tradition carried over from their days in Columbia. Neil could remember too many early mornings when he was pouring over notes with one hand, shoving hash browns in his mouth with the other while Andrew slurped obnoxiously at a strawberry milkshake.

Now, Andrew was walking along, sounding tired, with heavy footsteps.

Neil was just going to keep an ear on him until he got home, but that, of course, what the moment that he ran into the trio of dumbasses.

They’d jumped Andrew in the time Neil caught up to them, with Andrew already bleeding from his nose. He cursed like an angry feline and snarled at the man holding him with his arms behind his back.

Neil dropped in quickly, and the attacker’s attention was on him instantly, Andrew forgotten.

In fact, Neil had _ told _ the dumbass to go home when this whole thing started, before anyone had even thrown that first punch, but he stuck around near the entrance to the alley, watching as Neil took care of the assailants. Stubborn fucker.

Neil adjusted the wrap around his head and made his way towards him.

“Are you alright?” he asked, stopping a few feet away, keeping away from the streetlight trying to creep its way into the alley. A rat scuttled to Neil’s right, tipping a trash can lid over for their troubles. The sound was sharp and resonated quickly. The vibration bounced off Andrew’s face, detailing it in a flash.

He looked pissed off behind the hand on his nose, mouth twisted up as blood dripped down his mouth. “Fuckin’ rosy, how do I look, Mr. Devil?” he snapped. “You didn’t need to step in like that, they’re a bunch of fucking thugs.”

Neil frowned at him. “Well excuse me,” he said, “for trying to help you avoid a _ mugging _ .” Andrew’s sigh was _ sharp _, and Neil would bet anything that he rolled his eyes. “May I?” he asked, raising his hand towards Andrew’s face.

“If you try and kiss me like some kinda fucked up Spiderman moment, I’m gonna kick you in the balls,” Andrew warned, leaning in so Neil could prod around his nose.

“That’s what a cup is for,” Neil muttered absently, pitching his voice in hopes that Andrew won’t recognize him. He bit the middle finger of his glove and pulled it off so he could better feel. Andrew hissed between his teeth when Neil touched him again, and Neil could hear him tense. He pulled away from him, pulling his glove back on. “Your nose isn’t broken,” he announced.

“I know that,” Andrew told him surely. “This fucker’s aim was _ shit _.”

“They usually are,” Neil granted, securing his glove. “Make sure to ice this.” The sirens were closer, now. Andrew turned to the sound. Neil was gone before Andrew could yell for him to come back.

Neil keep an ear on Andrew all the way to the police station as he gave a statement.

(“Some fucker in goddamn black pajama pants ninja’d the hell out of the guys that jumped me.”

“...Is that what you want me to put on the report?” the officer asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, jot that down.”

“Okay, sir.”)

And later, on his walk home. His blood flow stemmed while he was in the station, but Neil could still smell the copper tang on him. He didn’t fuck around until he got home to his apartment. He was well after four by the time he heard Andrew chuck his shoes across the room and hang up his suit (and changing out the ice in the Ziplock an officer had given him) before climbing into bed.

Neil would have waited for him to fall asleep before he headed home, but he heard Andrew scrabble for his phone. The tone dials had Neil cursing even before Andrew placed the call.

The call rang through, quite predictably, because the phone he was trying to call was sitting abandoned in Neil’s apartment, plugged in and sitting innocently on his bed stand.

Andrew sighed. “Goddammit, Neil,” he muttered. The voicemail message sounded, and Andrew hesitated for a second after the beep before speaking. “I get that you’re probably asleep, it’s almost…” He paused. “Christ. Almost five . Anyway, just got home from the police station. That fuckin’ Devil guy Nicky’s straight up in love with just pulled me out of a fuckton of trouble. Some fuckers tried to get my wallet, or some shit, I dunno. Anyway, I’m taking off tomorrow, that’s all I was gonna say.”

His heart-rate kicked up, and it had Neil frowning at the lie.

“So cover for me. Don’t tell Nicky just yet, I’m already gonna have Aaron’s protective ass on me when I text him in the morning.” He ended the call with a decisive click. He sighed sharply and settled back into bed.

Neil went home as fast as he could, changing out of his gear and into regular sweats.

Andrew was still awake when he got to the apartment, and awfully bitchy when he opened the door. “Got my voicemail?” he asked, surprise in his voice.

Neil nodded. “Uh huh. What the fuck were you doing out so late?” he demanded, pushing past Andrew into his apartment. He hooked the corner into the kitchen, cane held up in his hands. He’d been in Andrew’s apartment far too many times to need it.

“Chair’s pulled out from the table, three steps forward,” Andrew told him, sounding strung out and tired. Neil felt around for it and pushed it back up to the table. “Couldn’t sleep, went to Amara’s.”

Neil nodded like he was soaking in the information.

“What the hell are _ you _ doing up?” Andrew demanded.

Neil threw a look in his general direction. “Couldn’t sleep,” he shot back. “Was at the gym.” Andrew made a low noise, but accepted his answer. “What happened?”

He listened through carefully as Andrew explained the story in colorful language and deadpan tones. He took a seat at the table while Neil got himself a glass of water. It was pleasantly warm in Andrew’s apartment, and he shed his jacket, hooking it over the back of one of the chairs. “Can I see?” he asked, reaching out for Andrew.

Andrew hummed, taking his wrist and pulling him forwards until Neil’s fingertips met his cheek. It was swollen. _ Bad _. The skin was cold and tight from the ice he’d kept on it. He made an unhappy sound, frowning over Andrew’s head as he assessed the damage. “Let it rest for now,” he said. “Ice it in a little while.”

“Thanks,” Andrew said dryly. “Your advice has been most helpful.”

Neil laughed at him, yanking on his ear. “Look,” he said, “at least your nose isn’t broken.”

Andrew’s breath caught. Something small, barely a gasp. Neil blinked, but fought to keep his face straight as he realized that was the same thing he’d said to Andrew earlier, in the suit. He hoped that Andrew hadn’t put the voice patterns together.

“I know that,” he said slowly, shaking Neil’s hands off his face. “Now, are you going to spend the night? Don’t tell me that you’re gonna walk home.”

Neil almost huffed a relieved sigh, but kept it in at the last moment. “I was planning on kicking you out of bed, why you got a better option?”

“I do,” Andrew told him, matter of fact. “You. Blankets. Couch. A trio made in heaven.”

Neil snorted. “Lead the way.”

So Neil wasn’t some cracked-up superhero. He was a vigilante roaming the streets, making Hell’s Kitchen a little less hellish, and occasionally saving his dumbass from times of peril and disaster. Nothin’ super about that. Just a regular Tuesday afternoon.

**Author's Note:**

> drop me a comment?
> 
> im on [tumblr](https://littlemumman.tumblr.com/)


End file.
